


In God's Country

by AwayLaughing



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Crusades, Hand Jobs, Historical, Kink Meme, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England and France share a moment while laying siege on Jerusalem in the Third Crusade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In God's Country

The heat of the desert was oppressive, sand chaffing uncomfortably under chain mail. Arthur surveyed the newly erected camp from his vantage point, a large plateau, part of the many dips and rises in the land outside the city. Off farther in the distance he could see the glint of the dying light against a great golden dome within the city.

“The sand is a bit much, but it is a beautiful city,” Arthur swung around at the voice, sword at the ready, the clash of the two weapons swallowed up by the brown around them. 

With a grunt of distaste as he realized who it was Arthur gave a push with his sword, unlocking them, before sheathing it again. “Surely you should be partaking in the pleasures of the local whores I saw lurking around camp.” 

The blond smiled at him, mouth full of wolves teeth, his eyes sparkling in the half light. “Me?” he asked, “a man of God?” Arthur snorted, turning back to the camp.

“Your interest in God is superficial at best,” he told his one time conqueror, ignoring the way the other had stepped forward to press against his back, their armour not enough protection for England.

“You offend me,” Francis said easily, not at all bothered by Arthur's barbs and that simple little fact made Arthur turn with a snarl.

If he had been intending to say anything he was almost immediately distracted, Francis' mouth colliding with his, wolf teeth catching Arthur's bottom lip. Tearing it away Arthur tilted his head, fitting their mouths better, hands fisting into the tied back hair feeling the grit of sand and knowing Francis was feeling something similar.

Their tongues clashed, lunging and parrying one moment only to caress and slide the next. Arthur vainly tried to ignore his need for breath but he was forced to pull back, panting, Francis grinning more.

“You-” Arthur's attempt at fury were once again cut off, this time by the swipe of a foot sending him crashing painfully to the hard, parched ground. The air whooshed angrily out of his lungs at the impact, making him arch, mouth open. Above him Francis chuckled.

“Oh that is how I like to see you,” he said appreciatively, laughing harder when Arthur's armoured foot collided with his unprotected knee sending him crashing onto the other nation.

“Wretch,” was all Arthur hissed at him before refitting their mouths, fingers knotting into the hair at Francis' nape and tugging. Francis let out a sharp noise at that before biting down hard on Arthur's neck, drawing blood.

“Wanton,” Francis snapped back, nimble fingers disappearing under the leg coverings of the mail shirt to tug down Arthur's leggings. To prove his point he palmed Arthur's crotch hard, making the other buck up and then wince when the mail dug into places Arthur would have preferred remain unscathed. Smirking victoriously Francis soothed a hand down Arthur's length, slowly bringing it back up to the tip. Thrashing a bit Arthur tried to bring him closer or drive him off, even Arthur didn't know, but Francis leaned down, armoured chest to armoured chest, face now covered in shadows, the sun almost completely gone.

Gasping the Briton licked his lips, dry in the desert heat. “You would know,” he managed, “about being a wanton.” Francis's grin was like a plant, always growing, the corners of his mouth arching up like tree branches toward the sky.

“Yes,” he said, “I do.” To prove his point his hand came down even further, fondling Arthur's sac and earning an outright moan, Arthur trying to spread his legs within the confines of his skirt.

“Harlot,” Arthur groaned, “why anyone would think you have any interest in the Holy Land is beside me.” This time the hand squeezed a little too hard.

“You try me Arthur,” Francis said lowly, “you may wish to stop soon.”

“Or?” The question came out before Arthur could stop himself.

“Maybe I will stop,” Francis offered, tapping the tip of Arthur's penis earning a strangled cry which Francis swallowed, unwilling to relinquish it to the desert.

Despite the distractions he was assaulted with Arthur gave no more quarter in this kiss than he had in the last, teeth sinking into Francis tongue as he came, bucking into the others scarred palm one last time. Smirking despite the damage to his tongue Francis stood.

“Where are you going?” the demand came as Arthur forced himself to sit up. Francis smiled as he retreated into the darkness.

“To find God,” came the reply from the other, casually over his shoulder, “or one of those dark eyed beauties, whichever comes first.” With that he was gone, the sound of his heavy foot steps fading quickly and Arthur fell back, eyes landing on the stars. Jerusalem or not he doubted they were going to find God in the desert.

And Francis certainly wasn't going to be the one to do so if they did.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is on the Kink Meme somewhere under a different name - I assure you I'm the author, I just lost the link and don't remember what I originally title it.


End file.
